Mon Petit Pois
by itsdahveed
Summary: (My first fic please give feedback;) Ziva is writing letters back to the team and can't figure out what to write to Tony.
1. Chapter 1

_Dear Tony, _she wrote, but once again, she immediately painted over it with whiteout. She had already tried _Dinozzo_, too formal, and _Anthony,_ also too formal, and now as she dabbed the 'y' with white paint, she scoured her brain for a greeting that would set the right tone for the rest of the letter. She got up and paced around the room, adjusting the AC a couple times. She didn't mind the heat of Israel, but she thought maybe her brain did. Her feet came to a halt. She snatched up the pen, touched it to the page and scrawled _Mon Petit Pois. _Even though it wasn't exactly what she was looking for, she went with it, knowing that she would never be able to think of anything better.

Her long brown curls slowly slid off her shoulder and just barely hovered over the page. She set down her pen and sat back to think. Think of all the memories. Think of all the times they'd been just a hair apart wanting to kiss so badly, but hadn't.

Her glance fell on her fire arm sitting on the coffee table. It of course was not her American gun, but her Mossad weapon. She thought maybe she should clean it. It clears her mind. _Keeps her focused on the task in her hand. _That had been one of their earliest memories (and of course one of her favorites). It was just the two of them in that hotel room. With of course the occasional check-ups from Mcgee and the constant surveillance from both MTAC and as they later found out the federal agents in the building across the way. She had never figured out if Tony was faking it or not. But she always suspected he was. She sighed. That was one of their first missions together. The first time they'd been in the same room for more than 12 hours.

She shook herself back to reality. She had to focus. But of course she couldn't. She stared at the other two letters; one for Abby, and one for Ducky and Palmer. She knew that she intimidated Palmer and used that as an advantage. In the letter to him and the old English Medical Examiner she caught them up on what was going on with Mossad and a few crazy stories that had happened along with the usual "Can't wait to visit" and "I miss you guys a lot". In the letter to Abby she had also told her some stories and insured her several times of her safety and that she was out of harm's way even though that was not true at all. Her attention was also drawn to the unwritten letters for Mcgee and Gibbs. She had no idea what to say. But that was an issue for the future.

This letter had to be different. This was for Tony. For her partner. For the only man who'd ever gotten behind her walls and seen her at her worst. She began to tear up. A single tear trailed down her cheek. Landing on the paper, leaving a small stain. she wanted to get a new sheet of paper. She didn't want him to know how much she missed him. How much she wanted to see him and hug him and kiss him. She kept it though. She didn't know why, but she did.

She tried to keep her brain on track. She started to write, "I have missed you". 'Everyday, every night, every second of my miserable life' she wanted to write. She swallowed back the pain every day and kept going. The only thing keeping her alive was the thought of seeing him again. "More than you would think." she continued. "I think of you often". She thought for a second. Then painted over the word often and added "And the team". She felt she was being too desperate. "I can't help but remember the time when I first walked into the building." 'And saw you' she wanted so badly to write down those words, but she couldn't.

"The orange gives me headaches just thinking about it. I miss those headaches. I miss the orange." she stared at the small Israeli flag poking up out of her pen cup. Reminding her of her old desk. Her desk across from Tony's. She looked up hoping to see his face, but instead sees all of Tel Aviv outside her window. She should've been happy with this view, but she wasn't. It reminded her too much of when she would look up and see the beautiful D.C. skyline. "How is it in D.C.?" she stopped for a second hoping that somehow his answer would magically appear on the paper. "Business as usual has carried on at Mossad.". She thought about her father. "Orli is treating me well." she struggled to write those words as she couldn't help but let another tear roll onto the page. She took a shaky breath and trudged on.

"I do not know why but I cannot get you out of my brain" she suddenly let all of it out."I think of you every moment. I miss you. A lot. More that I thought I would every miss someone in my life. I know that this is wrong and I shouldn't get this attached, but I am. I can't help myself. Tony I am in love with you. I know you might not believe it, but the only thing I've been doing for the past eight years is falling deeper in love with a man who I can't even talk to now. I have made a terrible mistake and now there is nothing i can do to fix it." and with that she ended it.


	2. Chapter 2

Tony stared out the window and thought. Thought of Ziva. Her hair, her eyes, her big brown eyes, staring into his. He shook himself. He had to stop thinking of her. She wasn't thinking of him, was she? No. She couldn't be. She had probably already moved on.

Today was a Sunday which meant no work. Thank God for Sundays. He usually spent them sleeping in and watching Sunday night football, but not today. Today he was solemn. Thinking. Thinking about his choices. Why did he let her go? Why wasn't he on the next plane to Tel Aviv? He knew why, but he didn't like it.

She had always told him not to worry, not to help her or to feel the need to protect her. He hated that. He wanter her safe, in his arms. He wanted to know that she would never get hurt anymore that she already was. He wanted the peace of mind. Without her here, his thoughts were going crazy. _Where is she? What if she's in trouble? What if she's hurting? _He wanted to rip out the part of his brain that kept her in his memory. _You have to let her go. It's what she wants._

The ring of the doorbell pulled him back to reality. He trudged to the door and peeped through the little hole. It was Abby. What was she doing here? He opened the door slowly hoping to not be attacked with a hysterical embrace. Instead she stood there. Red eyed, hair down, black tee shirt, no make-up. It reminded him of another time similar to this, this seemed much worse. "Tony?" she said with a shaky voice. "I-I brought your mail up."

"Thank you Abby." he said not realizing how horrible his own voice sounded.

"G-Goodbye." Her eyes filled with tears as she gripped a sheet of paper he hadn't noticed. And before he could say anything, she was gone.

_That was odd._ He thought. He sifted through the bills until he came upon an address that made his jaw drop. It was from Tel Aviv. From Ziva. He didn't want to open it. But he did. He saw the many layers of whiteout underneath a certain name '_Mon Petit Pois' _. His eyes couldn't help but water as he read through each and every sentence until he got to the end:

_"I think of you every moment. I miss you. A lot. More than I thought I would ever miss anyone in my life. I know that this is wrong and I shouldn't get this attached, but I am. I can't help myself. Tony I am in love with you. I know you might not believe it, but the only thing I've been doing for the past eight years is falling deeper in love with a man who I can't even talk to now. I have made a terrible mistake and now there is nothing I can do to fix it." _

Then his eyes fell upon the salty smelling stains at the bottom of the page. That was his tipping point. He sobbed thinking of just the image of her crying. He had no clue what to even think. Here he was, alone crying and he was just told that the woman he has loved for eight whole years _loves him back? _He had to be with her immediately. But decided to reply first. _How am I supposed to reply to this?_

He had so many nicknames for her. _My little furry israeli? _No. _Mossad Hunting Dog? _No. _Sweet cheeks? _ Probably not. _My Little Drunken Sailor? _Defiantly not. He sat down with a pen and a pice of printer paper.

_Dear My Little Ninja, _he scrawled. What was he supposed to say? 'I love you too' just wasn't good enough. "I have to see you" he started but his words got smudged by his tears. He didn't care. He shoved it into an envelope and scribbled out Ziva's new address (he memorized it the moment she told it to him). After jamming it into his mailbox and practically breaking the flag, he got onto his laptop and typed into the search engine 'Flights to Tel Aviv'.


End file.
